Chapter 10 Amelia
Returning to Seattle after the weekend retreat should feel grounding. I should be ready to immerse myself back into work, to settle into the comfort of routine.
Instead, as the city skyline looms ahead, a weight settles over me, heavy and unshakable.
I glance at Dominic from the passenger seat. He drives with one hand on the wheel, his jaw tight, his gaze locked on the road ahead. He’s different here. Less at ease. The serenity of the coast has been replaced with something else—something heavier.
His world is pulling him back into its orbit.
I knew this was temporary. A pause. A moment suspended in time that neither of us could hold onto forever. But a selfish part of me still aches at the thought of returning to the complications waiting for us.
We pull up outside my apartment, and he shifts the car into park.
For a moment, neither of us move.
“Back to reality,” I murmur, forcing a small smile.
Dominic exhales, his fingers tightening briefly around the steering wheel before he turns to face me. “That doesn’t mean this has to change.”
I meet his gaze, searching for sincerity. “Doesn’t it?”
A shadow crosses his expression, but before he can answer, my phone vibrates in my lap. I glance down and see my hospital’s number flashing across the screen. Duty calls.
With a reluctant sigh, I pick up. “Dr. Grant.”
“We have a patient in pre-op requesting you personally. Can you come in?”
I shoot Dominic an apologetic look before responding, “I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
As I hang up, he studies me, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Saved by the call.”
I shake my head. “More like delayed by it.”
Neither of us say what we’re really thinking.
That sooner or later, the conversation we keep avoiding will demand to be had.
The hospital is a welcome distraction. Here, I am in control. The steady beeping of monitors, the clipped voices of nurses exchanging patient updates, the familiar scent of antiseptic—all of it is grounding.
But Dominic lingers in my mind.
I go through my day as if nothing has changed, yet something has.
There’s a charge under my skin, an awareness that wasn’t there before.
It makes focusing harder, especially when my thoughts drift to how he looked in the early morning light, the way his arm tightened around me like he could keep me from slipping away.
By the time my shift ends, exhaustion drags at my limbs. I step into my office, ready to gather my things, when I hear voices drifting down the hall.
I freeze.
I know one of them.
Dominic.
And Eleanor.
Curiosity pricks at me. I step closer, pressing my back against the wall just out of sight.
“You need to be careful, Dominic,” Eleanor says, her voice sharp but controlled. “This is bigger than you. You know that.”
“I don’t need the reminder,” Dominic replies, his tone clipped. “I’ve lived it my entire life.”
“Then why are you risking everything over her?”
My stomach clenches.
There’s a beat of silence before Dominic speaks again, his voice lower. “Because I can’t walk away.”
Eleanor exhales, frustration clear in the sound. “You don’t have the luxury of that choice.”
I don’t hear the rest. I don’t need to.
I slip away, my pulse hammering in my ears.
Dominic is fighting for this. For me.
But Eleanor is right.
He doesn’t have the luxury of choosing me, not when the weight of a kingdom is pressing down on him.
And as much as I want to pretend otherwise, I’m not sure I have the luxury of choosing him either.
The following week passes in a blur.
Dominic reaches out.
I don’t answer.
Not because I don’t want to. But because I don’t know how to.
At work, I throw myself into my patients, into responsibilities I can control.
But avoidance only lasts so long.
One evening, as I leave the hospital, I find him waiting outside.
He leans against his car, hands in his pockets, his eyes trained on me the second I step through the doors.
There’s no smugness in his expression, no teasing smirk. Just quiet determination.
I exhale, bracing myself. “Dominic.”
“We need to talk,” he says, pushing off the car. “And I’m done waiting.”
So am I.
I nod, and without another word, I let him take my hand, leading me toward the inevitable.
The drive is quiet.
We don’t speak until we’re inside his penthouse, the city sprawled out beneath us through the towering windows. He turns to me, running a hand through his hair.
“Why are you pulling away?” His voice is steady, but there’s an edge to it.
I swallow hard. “Because this isn’t sustainable, Dominic. You know that.”
His jaw tightens. “What I know is that I don’t want to lose you.”
I exhale sharply, shaking my head. “You don’t get to just say that and expect everything to be okay.”
He steps closer, his hands resting on my arms. “Then tell me what to do.”
I search his face, frustration and longing tangled in my chest. “You can’t change what’s expected of you.”
“I can fight it,” he insists.
“And if you lose?” I whisper.
His grip on me tightens, his expression unreadable. “Then at least I know I tried.”
The sincerity in his voice cracks something in me.
Because I want to believe him. I want to believe that we can make this work, that love is enough.
But logic wars against emotion, and I don’t know which side is winning.
A knock at the door startles us both.
Dominic sighs, running a hand through his hair before stepping away to answer it.
Eleanor stands in the doorway, her expression unreadable.
“We have a problem.”
Dominic stiffens. “What now?”
She hesitates before stepping inside, her gaze flicking to me.
“The regency isn’t happy with how visible your relationship has become. They’ve given you an ultimatum.”
A cold chill settles over me. “What kind of ultimatum?”
Eleanor looks directly at Dominic. “You either step fully into your role and distance yourself from anything that jeopardizes it…”
Her eyes flick to me again.
“Or they force your hand.”
Silence fills the room, thick and suffocating.
Dominic clenches his jaw. “They can’t force me.”
“They can,” Eleanor corrects. “And they will.”
The weight of the choice ahead presses against my chest, suffocating, undeniable.
And this time, I don’t think we can outrun it.